#AmericanWriters
134 Perhaps you’d like to buy a flower… But I could never sell— If you would like to borrow, Until the Daffodil
190 He was weak, and I was strong—the… So He let me lead him in— I was weak, and He was strong the… So I let him lead me—Home.
614 In falling Timbers buried— There breathed a Man— Outside—the spades—were plying— The Lungs—within—
After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,
It was not death, for I stood up, And all the dead lie down; It was not night, for all the bell… Put out their tongues, for noon. It was not frost, for on my flesh
A little East of Jordan, Evangelists record, A Gymnast and an Angel Did wrestle long and hard— Till morning touching mountain—
A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs— Whose Emerald Nest the Ages spin
So proud she was to die It made us all ashamed That what we cherished, so unknown To her desire seemed. So satisfied to go
807 Expectation—is Contentment— Gain—Satiety— But Satiety—Conviction Of Necessity
547 I’ve seen a Dying Eye Run round and round a Room— In search of Something—as it seem… Then Cloudier become—
900 What did They do since I saw The… Were They industrious? So many questions to put Them Have I the eagerness
453 Love — thou art high — I cannot climb thee — But, were it Two — Who knows but we —
482 We Cover Thee—Sweet Face— Not that We tire of Thee— But that Thyself fatigue of Us— Remember—as Thou go—
886 These tested Our Horizon— Then disappeared As Birds before achieving A Latitude.
528 Mine—by the Right of the White E… Mine—by the Royal Seal! Mine—by the sign in the Scarlet p… Bars—cannot conceal!
